Author: Zazu
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Duo POV
Pairing: 1+2+1
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, nor do I own the characters. I have borrowed them here for some fun and creativity, and this is not for profit. I do, however, own the plot mentioned here, and any instances that you may find similar to real life events are purely a coincidence.
Notes: Not beta-read (yet).
Better Half
Better half. The term was supposed to be an informal mention of one's spouse, but for some reason, it always makes me feel awkward whenever Wufei uses that term in reference to Heero.
Heero is my other half; there's no doubt about that. But my better half?
It's true that I didn't have the education he did from a young age, not that I would say his childhood experience was the very best. Nor do I have the dedicated drive he has when there's something to be done, although in my defence, I can be very focused when I want to.
I mean, just half an hour ago, I was so focused on making him forget his own name that I didn't realize until his fingers dug into my shoulder that I wa-
Ahem. I digress.
The point is, although I hate to say it, sometimes the term makes me feel almost inadequate. I don't have the intense stare that Heero does, which makes the female population fall at his feet when they weren't afraid of getting too close. I have to struggle sometimes to make my hair listen when I braid it, whereas Heero can roll out of bed, run a hand twice through his hair and have the most perfect, sexy bedhead in the world.
I don't have the crazy computer skills he does, meaning that thus far, he has never failed in hacking for information we need. I am, however, a better pilot than he is. And the better lock picker, although neither skill was very useful to us now that the war was over.
Looking over at him, Gods, he even looks absolutely perfect, sleeping on his stomach with his face turned towards me. All I had to show for my sleeping was some dorky picture someone had taken, where I was sprawled on the bed, leg and braid dangling off the edge with my mouth wide open.
"What are you thinking about?"
I started, and he set a warm hand on my shoulder as he apologized. I'd guess that he was probably more perceptive than I am, too.
"I guess you are my better half," I said, sliding my fingers briefly through his hair.
He raised an eyebrow and spoke after a moment. "That's a term for a spouse. Is that your way of proposing to me?"
I shoved his shoulder lightly, a grin crossing my face, and he chuckled, shifting closer. "Even you can't keep me away from you," he said.
The sap. He was even the perfect romantic when he wanted to be. And what I thought earlier, about him being more perceptive, was definitely true.
"You sound wistful," he said slowly, searching my eyes. "Why?"
"No reason," I answered, rolling onto my back to look at the dark ceiling. "I just figured that Wufei is right."
"Right about?"
"You being my better half."
He leaned over me. "Isn't that a good thing?"
What? "I guess. It's the truth, I mean. There are tons of things you are better at than me. Hell, to me, you're practically perfect. Only makes sense that it looks that way to other people, too."
I watched as comprehension seemed to dawn on his face and he rubbed his nose briefly against mine. "You're misunderstanding the term," he said.
"How so?" I asked, confused.
"When someone says 'better half of an hour', it means, mathematically speaking, more than half, right?"
"Right..."
"Better half, used to refer to a spouse, just means that the other person is the first person's bigger half." He sat on me, gazing right into my eyes. "I'd say you were my better half. You take up a good chunk of my thoughts, my emotions, my heart and my brain, and probably at this point, you've marked a good part of my body." He gestured to his clavicle, where I almost always leave a mark whenever we do it.
I sat up and touched the spot, then leaned forward to kiss it again. He held my head close to the spot and spoke softly.
"I could only hope that I am your better half."
I lifted my head quickly and winced when I caught him under the chin. His hand rubbed my head as he grimaced.
"Sorry," I chuckle. "I was in a rush to tell you that yeah, you are my better half. Both in the way I thought it was, and in the way you just explained."
"I'm not perfect."
"You are."
"To you, maybe," he said, leaning close. "You're perfect to me, too. Except when you leave your socks lying around."
"It's not my fault you don't wait long enough for me to take my socks off. Half the time I don't get them off until after we're done. You don't expect me to leave a warm spot in bed just to put them in the hamper, do you?"
"Fair enough," he said. "In my defence, you look pretty perfect to me when you lie back and pull your knees to your chest, completely naked except for your socks."
"Is that a sock fetish you're admitting there?" I asked with a laugh.
He smiled, and my laughter died away when he cupped my cheek. "All I know is that you are my better half, and since I can be pretty possessive, I'm making you say that I'm your better half, too. Then I own over fifty percent of you, making you my possession, so to speak."
"Sounds good to me." I leaned forward and rest my forehead on his shoulder. He stroked my braid briefly before tugging at it until I looked up at him again.
"Sounds good to me, too," he said.
And in reflection, as sappy as it sounds, when we leaned forward to share a kiss, heads angled for our lips to meet, we came together like two halves forming a complete, perfect whole.
OWARI
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